Vigil
by Cheryl W
Summary: Sitting beside his hospital bed, Lisa Braeden didn't quite understand why she had come and certainly didn't know why she hadn't left already.
1. Chapter 1

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Sitting beside his hospital bed, Lisa Braeden didn't quite understand why she was had come and certainly didn't know why she hadn't left already.

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Chapter 1

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Sitting beside his hospital bed, Lisa Braeden didn't quite understand why she had come and certainly didn't know why she hadn't left already. She didn't belong here, especially with him. And she really shouldn't have brought Ben along.

But she did and she was staying and, God help her, she was glad she was there, that he wasn't alone. As convoluted as her emotions were about him, she didn't want to see him hurt. Even as she watched, he feverishly tossed his head and his bruised features tightened, in pain or mental torment she didn't know which. Not until his brother's name fell from his lips, a beseeching little boy, lost tone that she wasn't at all immune to, in fact, it went through her, made her feel like she always did when Ben called out in pain for her.

Though his eyes slid open, she knew he didn't see her, was too drugged and too feverish to comprehend his surroundings. Achingly, he called out for his brother again.

She raised her hand but then hesitated, let it hover over his fevered brow. But she couldn't hold back comfort, not when his call turned from beseeching to fearful. He stilled under her light touch, blinked as she cooed, "Shhhh…It's alright, Sam." Sharply she remembered the nights she had spent soothing Dean after a nightmare had ripped him out of sleep, his choked back shout still echoing in their bedroom.

Some clarity suddenly appeared in Sam's gaze and it seemed as if he was seeing her for the first time since she had arrived. "Where's Dean?" he forlornly asked.

Lisa felt her own throat close up. Sam's question was her own, had been running through her head ever since she had walked into that hospital room fully expecting to see an injured Dean. But instead of Dean, she had found Sam Winchester lying in the hospital bed, so still and looking so very vulnerable that she couldn't turn around and walk away, couldn't even _contemplate_ leaving him unprotected.

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TBC?

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Alright, I still like Lisa. (Please hold off throwing the tomatoes.) And I want Sam and Lisa to come to an understanding, to do it for Dean, because, no matter their differences, they both love Dean and don't want him to be hurt.

I would love to know if you want more.

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	2. Chapter 2

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: I so wasn't expecting such a wonderful wave of encouragement for this little story! To return your kindness, I'm planning on updating this story daily right up to the season finale on May 20th (ffnet willing). I will confess that the chapters are baby chapters but it was just fun to put a thought down and move on. Hope you don't mind.

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Chapter 2

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Dean had a hundred aliases, Lisa knew that. So when the call had come from the hospital, with a bit of stammering, she blindly acknowledged that she knew Robert Plant, listened, her heart in her throat, as they told her Mr. Plant seemed to have been attacked by a wild animal and wasn't conscious.

As much as she wanted to tell herself it wasn't Dean, she couldn't drown out the overwhelming fear that it was.

She didn't hesitate, didn't, for one second, doubt her decision to go and take Ben with her. Not when it was **Dean** who was hurt.

Except it wasn't, was Sam unconscious in the hospital bed, looking innocent for all the bruises and bandage on his forehead. Like Dean had sometimes when he was asleep, when the nightmares didn't torment him, when he forgot, for a millisecond, that his brother was _gone_.

Sending Ben to the nearest vending machine, she had let the doctor brief her on Sam's condition: lacerations, several bites, a few savage claw marks, all resulting in a high fever that left him mostly unresponsive. She had asked if someone was with Sam when he was brought in, prayed that Dean was fine, had just taken Sam to a hospital before he went off to finish the hunt they were apparently on.

Alone. Sam had stumbled into the ER very much alone.

At that news, her heart fluttered in her chest. Dean would not have abandoned Sam, especially an injured Sam, she knew that as surely as she knew the curve of Dean's jawline.

The voice in her head that said, '_Hey, we don't know what's happened. It could be nothing has happened,_' it was Dean. All Dean. Falling back on his strength, on his calmness in the midst of chaos, she pushed her fears down and walked back into Sam Winchester's hospital room and claimed a seat beside his bed. Did it because Dean wouldn't want Sam to be alone when he was vulnerable, and because, whether she liked it or not, being close to Sam meant being close to Dean. That inseparable, twisted, titanium strength bond between the brothers made that true.

Sam wasn't lucid enough to tell her where Dean was, didn't even know she was there. She knew she could leave, walk away and let Dean to the life he had chosen. Knew too that she could punish Sam for coming back, for taking away her happily ever after with the only man she had ever loved.

Trouble was, she still loved Dean. Loved him enough to never want to hurt him…or anyone that he loved. And Dean loved his brother, very much.

So she took off her coat and got comfortable in the chair. Until Dean came back she would be there for Sam. And Dean was coming back.

'_He always comes back to Sam…_'she reassured herselfbut another truth slipped under her guard. '_And he always comes back to me, no matter how long he stays gone.'_

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and I LOVED every single review I got. You all made my day!

I appreciate everyone who's tuned in, whether you're a Lisa fan or not. I just felt the need to patch up Dean and Lisa's relationship before the finale airs and who knows what happens between them. (And please NO spoilers for the finale. I love getting surprised as the scenes unravel and just think, our men are on for 2 HOURS! That's cause to smile.)

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.

PS: I just might be persuaded to throw another chapter on ffnet tonight. Bodily threats or over the top compliments both work for me.


	3. Chapter 3

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Here's another part tonight because you guys reviewed, because Storylover28 threatening me with evil chipmunks…(if they are extras on Supernatural, I'm terrified already) and because Sue wanted a bit more before bedtime (I love a good story before I hit the hay too) and because I'm a big old softie!

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Chapter 3

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Surprisingly lucid eyes focused on her a day later.

"Lisa?" Sam exclaimed with incomprehension as he struggled to sit up.

Offering a soft smile, Lisa carefully greeted, "Hey, how are you feeling?" tried to not get her hopes up. Sam had talked to her before but had just as quickly slipped back into the void, had woken with the same question on his lips a few times, always asking for Dean, to know where Dean was, always alarmed that Dean wasn't there. But this was the first time Sam realized, not who wasn't there, but who _was_ there.

"What? Me? I'm fine," Sam offhandly reassured, as if he was uncomfortable with the concern he saw in Lisa's eyes. But she saw his eyes flickering around the room, searching, saw them darken as his search came up empty.

"Yeah, you're fine. You learn that from Dean or the other way around?" she lightly teased. But inside, her gut was churning. Sam wasn't confused anymore, could finally answer the question that had plagued her, plagued them both for two days. And she was terrified that she wouldn't be able to live with the answer.

"Oh I definitely learned that from Dean," Sam drawled but he was looking behind Lisa, at the door as if he expected a familiar figure to walk through it's frame any second.

Beginning to nervously rub her hands up and down her thighs, Lisa tried to get the words out, to ask the question she had plied a delirious Sam with so many times before. But the words wouldn't come, the painful uncertainty suddenly becoming a life raft, a way to lie to herself, believe that everything would be alright.

Just like the days before, it was Sam who posed the question "Where's Dean?" a hint of panic in his voice.

Lisa's stomach dropped as her very own question came from Sam. "I don't know. They called me…and I thought…well, I thought Dean was hurt."

Sam sagely nodded his head, sharp understanding and absolutely no bitterness shading his eyes. "That's why you're here."

"Yes, it's why I came…it's not why I stayed," Lisa admitted, knew that, in the life Dean led, that Sam led, honesty was a rarity, was something they valued above most other things.

Tilting his head, Sam studied Lisa, tried to detect her deception and found none. He knew it shouldn't surprise him, that someone Dean allowed himself to love would be both direct and compassionate.

Intimated by Sam's intense eye contact, Lisa said, " I should get a doctor…" and she got up was heading to the door when Sam's inquiry stopped her in her tracks.

"How long have you been here?"

Turning around, Lisa replied, "Two days." And whatever reaction she expected from Sam, it wasn't what she got.

Jolting upright, Sam demanded, voice climbing in panic, "What?"

Believing Sam's worry was for himself, for his own medical condition, Lisa began to calmly explain, "You were delirious, had an infection…"

"No, no, not that. Dean **seriously** hasn't been here, he didn't call in?" Sam's blue eyes bored into hers, seemingly demanded good news that she just couldn't give.

"No. That's why they called me when you got worse."

Throwing back the covers of the hospital bed, Sam declared, "I gotta go."

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and for the kind reviews for last chapter!

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W


	4. Chapter 4

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: I ended up reworking this chapter so I'm sorry that I'm so late in posting.

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Chapter 4

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"Wait, Sam," Lisa protested, heading back to Sam's side.

But Sam was already in motion, was determinedly sitting up, putting his feet down and launching himself to his feet. When dizziness turned his world into a tilt-a-whirl ride, delicate but strong hands gripped his forearms. Closing his eyes, he tried to will his body to do what he needed it to.

"You can't leave, Sam," Lisa firmly but gently stated. "You're not up to it."

Shaking his head, Sam opened his eyes, met Lisa's gaze. And he could see her strength, could also feel her apprehension. It was a dull counterpart to his own growing terror. "Dean should be here. Should be back by now."

"Back from where? What were you hunting?" Lisa pushed for answers, hoped Sam trusted her enough to tell her the truth. Even if Sam tried to coddle her, she could sense the fear seeping through his besieged barriers. And that was wrong on so many levels. Dean and Sam, they weren't supposed to be _afraid, _especially not of what they hunted.

"We weren't hunting anything…" Sam contradicted. Then, drawing in a ragged breath, he forced out the rest of the explanation. "Something was hunting Dean."

Suddenly Lisa couldn't breathe, couldn't remember _how_ to breathe. It took her a moment to convince herself that she was stronger than her fear. Being with Dean, loving Dean, it had made that a necessity, unless she wanted to spend her days sitting in a corner, crying herself right into the mental ward. "But you're the one who's hurt," she quietly pointed out, left her question hover in the air, unspoken.

"I wasn't going to let it get Dean!" Sam fired back, indignation, determination and fear vying for supremacy.

It was in that instant that Lisa realized, for the first time, that Dean's devotion to Sam, it went both ways. "What is it? What's after him?

Sam struggled to calm down, to not let his dread conjure up horrific scenario after horrific scenario of why Dean wasn't there, of why he might never see his brother again. '_It can't happen again. I swore I wouldn't __let__ it happen again._' The merciless, '_But you left him go alone. You don't have his back, no one does' _sent a shockwave ofpanic through his very soul.

When every drop of color drained from Sam's features and Sam began to draw in rasping, panicked gasps of air, Lisa manhandled Sam back to take a seat on the bed. "It's going to be Ok. Just take a breath, Sam," she gently instructed, claiming a seat on the bed beside him. She ran her hand lightly through his hair like she did whenever Ben cried as if his very world was breaking, like he had when she told him that Dean wasn't going to be part of their family anymore.

Sam bowed his head, tried to do as Lisa asked, tried to breathe.

"Dean will come back. He will Sam," Lisa unwaveringly promised, uncertain if the belief was there for Sam's sake or for her own.

Lisa's declaration, it was enough to break through Sam's panic, allowed him to pull in a chest rattling inhale and raise his head to look at the woman who loved his brother. "You don't know that," he forlornly refuted. "You don't know…." '_what I do. You don't know what was after him_. _How it ended last time_. _That I didn't stop it. Couldn't.' _"You don't know what's after him."

Shaken by the dread in Sam's eyes, Lisa pulled away from Sam, stood up, desperately wanted to distance herself from the truth she didn't know and Sam could hardly voice. She already knew too much about what was after Dean, that it had teeth and claws and had nearly killed Sam. Sam, who wasn't even the creature's true target. "Dean never…we didn't talk about… the things he hunted. I probably don't even…I might have never heard of it,"she stammered, tried to dissuade Sam from saying anything more, from telling her details she wouldn't be able to compartmentalize, might not be able to endure learning.

Sam clutched the mattress under his fists, wished he could claim the same, that he had never heard of the creatures. Wished that, out of all the things that he didn't remember, they would be one of them, that they didn't still roam unchecked in his nightmares once and awhile.

But then, three days ago, nightmare had become reality. One of them had stepped out of the darkness of Hell, mercilessly intent on hunting down the prey that had gotten away: Dean.

"It's a hellhound," Sam hoarsely supplied. "What's after Dean is a hellhound."

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TBC

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Thanks so much for reading and for those wonderful reviews!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	5. Chapter 5

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's note: This storyline was just something I amused myself with, knew I wanted to scribble down before the finale. I didn't know if I would even write it all out, let alone post it. But, with your outpouring of interest and support for the story, you have inspired me to not only finish the story but try and make it worthy of your attention. So I've begun to incorporate more depth than I had intended to, which means the chapters will be a little longer but hopefully I can still post one a day. Thanks to all of you for your encouragement!

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Chapter 5

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Sam was getting dressed but he could hear the conversation being held in the hallway about him. Clearly heard Lisa's unwaveringly determined tone as she ordered the doctor to write out a prescription for him and to provide her with an outline of his follow-up care.

"Let's discuss this in private," the doctor assuaged before the voices wafted away.

Sam was still reeling at Lisa's response when he told her what was after Dean.

"_Ok. Well, then we get you out of here and we go find Dean." _

And she had said it with such conviction, like she actually thought it was that easy to make everything alright. That he would just slip out of the hospital, miraculously track down his brother and easily dispatch the evil that dared to threaten Dean. "Lisa, a hellhound gets a scent…"

"It doesn't ever lose the trail, I know that much. But you've killed some before."

He didn't have the stomache to tell her how things usually turned out when they went up against a hellhound. It wasn't like the memories weren't already playing in his head, Dean's ravaged body, Jo bleeding out, even Meg hadn't fared all that well against them with an _angel'_s sword.

But before he could temper Lisa's determination with stark reality, she left the room to seek out his doctor and get him sprung. She expected him to save Dean, but more than that, she had _faith_ that he would. '_She's not been there to watch me fail, to see me betray Dean. She doesn't know how many times I've let Dean down before.'_

And Dean never told her, he knew that. Dean bore his hurts in silence, buried them deep and didn't air them out for anyone to see. Even the people he loved best, even the people who knew his pain, wanted some way to ease it. No, Dean wouldn't have told Lisa how many times he hurt him, wouldn't tarnish his baby brother's image like that.

Suddenly, Sam ached to see his brother swagger into the room, to give him that cocky smirk, to chide him for worrying. But Dean wasn't there, hadn't come back, and the significance of that stark fact was slowly killing him inside.

Dean could be dead, had almost died in their motel room right before his eyes.

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The growl had vibrated through the claustrophobically small motel room, rattled the very windows

Sam's nerveless fingers dropped the water glass he held and his eyes shot across the room to his brother's. And even before Dean spoke the unholy word, Sam knew what was coming for them, could see it in his brother's eyes, the terror and the despair. Knew that the sharp memories of being ripped apart were already starting to play in Dean's head.

They both dove for their weapon bags, but neither was quick enough.

Sam turned away as the window shattered, sent glass spraying across the room, pinging off his back. He could hear the thunk of paws hitting the thin carpet even as he spun around, saw the hound in all its terrifying hellspawn glory. Helplessly, he watched as it charged for his brother.

Ever resourceful, Dean, in lieu of the weapons he hadn't been able to reach in time, used everything at his disposal to hold the beast off, grabbed whatever he could and hurled it at the merciless servant of Hades: chair, lamp, tv, just barely lifted the mattress up before the hound pounced. Dean crashed to the floor, a flimsy mattress the only thing between him and the powerful claws that had once dug through his chest cavity like it were a sandbox.

The roar of the shotgun blast echoed through the small confines of the room a second before rocksalt peppered the hound's flank, knocked him off the mattress and Dean alike. Another shot had him yelping and scampering into the corner of the room, a little more wary of its prey.

Running forward, Sam grabbed a handful of Dean's shirt and yanked his brother off the ground. Roughly, he pulled Dean protectively behind him. The beast was after Dean, not him. But this time, he wasn't pinned to a wall, wasn't going to stand there and watch his brother be savagely mauled to death.

As one, he and Dean began to back out of the room. Loading more rocksalt rounds in the shotgun chamber, Sam kept the gun trained on the hound. Dimly, he heard Dean utter, "Knife", before he realized Dean's intentions, that his brother was going to try to get to the weapons bag that had ended up between the two beds. A position that would put him right in the beast's line of attack.

Even as Sam grabbed for his brother's shirt to stop him, cursed himself for letting Dean go in the first place, Dean dove left, left the minimal protection he offered. The hound didn't miss its chance, sprang forward even as Dean's fingers closed around the strap of the bag. Sam pulled the trigger, his shot knocking the hound backwards mid-leap to slam against the back wall.

"Come on!" Sam shouted, using one hand to latch onto Dean's arm and pull him toward the door.

Weapons bag in hand, Dean didn't need further prompting to get out of Dodge. He was running for the door, trusted Sam to cover their strategic retreat. He fumbled a moment with the door's lock. A shotgun blast boomed behind him but he didn't look over his shoulder, instead he concentrated on getting them out of the room. Then the lock slid free and he swung the door open, grabbed a fistful of the back of Sam's shirt and yanked his brother backwards.

Sam just barely kicked the door shut in time, heard the impact of the hound hitting the wooden frame, growling at the impediment to its goal.

Spinning around, Sam ran for the Impala, was only a few paces behind Dean's footfalls. But the sound of glass tinkering onto the sidewalk told him they weren't going to be fast enough, either of them. "Get in the car!" He shouted at Dean even as he brought his own momentum to a stuttering stop and spun around.

Sam's shotgun round caused the creature to stumble, but only for a moment.

Then the hellhound was up, was breaking right, was going for Dean. Dean who wasn't in the car yet.

Sam's pull on the shotgun trigger resulted in a dull click. The gun was empty.

There was no plan, there was no logic, was only his need to protect Dean, to not lose Dean again. Ever again.

With an enraged, determined yell, Sam ran between Dean and the hellhound, swung the shotgun at the massive beast's head. Then the crushing weight of the beast knocked him to the ground. Sam howled in pain as its sharp claws tore into his chest and the hound's strong jaw began to clamp down on his arm.

Without warning, the hellhound roared in agony and staggered off of him. Bleeding from a knife wound in its neck, the beast stumbled back a few more paces, showed its teeth in a growl but didn't attack, was extremely cautious now.

Numbly, Sam knew Dean had saved him.

Then his brother's arms wrapped around him, hauled him to his feet. Leaning heavily on the one person in the world he couldn't lose, Sam put one foot in front of the other, helped Dean get him to the car. But he put his hand on the doorframe, refused to sink into the passenger seat of the car, not if it meant Dean would then have to circle the car to get in.

"Get in," Sam huskily ordered, waving his bloody hand toward the Impala's bench seat. Marshalling the strength to raise his head high enough to meet Dean's gaze head on, he sharply pointed out, "It's after you, Dean! Now get in the car!"

Taking the time to offer his little brother a quick eyeroll at his dramatics, Dean granted his brother's wish. Slipping by Sam, he dove into the passenger side of the car, had barely made contact with the interior of the benchseat when he immediately reached out for Sam. With more desperation than precision, he tugged Sam down into the car, nearly pulling him onto his lap. Then, leaning over Sam, he pulled the door closed.

The next second Dean was bringing the car rumbling to life. Fishtailing it backwards before sending it barreling out of the parking lot, he left a snarling hellhound behind.

Rabidly watching the rearview mirror, Sam saw the hellhound start to lope after their car.

The beast refused to give up on its prey.

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Trying to not let his gut wrenching fear get the best of him, Sam put his concentration back on not pitching forward onto the floor as he struggled to get into his jeans and pull his t-shirt over his head. It didn't matter how much pain he was in, that his balance was shot, that his hands trembled. He would work through it, all of it, could work through anything as long as he got Dean back.

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Pulling her arm free of the doctor's grasp, Lisa didn't back down as the doctor attempted to brow beat her into submission. Dean would have known what a lost cause the man was waging.

"Mrs. Braeden, I don't think you understand the severity of Robert's condition. I'm not sure of your relationship with him but this decision, to check himself out of the hospital, it is not something I can condone. And I don't fully trust Robert's judgment right now. If there was a family member present who could be consulted…"

"I'm his sister-in-law," Lisa boldly stated, didn't bat one eyelash at the lie but something in her ached for what would never be, for one of the only things in life that she had allowed herself to want for herself.

The doctor paused before he began another campaign. "I thought your last name was Braeden…."

"I kept my maiden name," she explained away, had, for a second, contemplated stating that Sam and "her husband" were only half brothers. But she found that she couldn't do that, couldn't breathe aloud that particular lie. It would be like taking a stake to Dean's heart, her claiming that he and Sam were not brothers. It was who they were at their core. It was who Dean was even when she thought he was solely hers.

"In the absence of Robert's brother, are you really willing to make a decision that could adversely affect Robert?"

It made it easier, the doctor calling Sam, Robert, that he never called Dean by name. Made it seem like she could make the decision, that she could pretend Dean would agree with it. To ignore the fear the doctor's words "in the absence of his brother" stirred up in her. Because Dean, he wasn't there, was Sam's family, was Sam's only family and he wasn't there. And if he was, he probably wouldn't agree to what Sam was insisting on doing and she wasn't stopping Sam from doing: Leaving the hospital.

They probably would never agree on much, her and Sam, but they agreed on this. That Dean had to be found, for both of their sakes.

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TBC

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I hope you guys liked the hellhound attack flashback? Though I never intended to write that part, you guys reacted so great to the hellhound idea that I felt you deserved to see the attack.

As always, thanks so much for reading and for showing interest in the story continuing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W. 


	6. Chapter 6

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: I'm so pleased you guys liked the hellhound flashback! And, with your encouragement, I'm continuing with longer chapters. However, that might mean this story wraps up before the finale on Friday. I'm still working on the ending so we'll see how things go.

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Chapter 6

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Sam found that, his shoes, they were a problem. A major one.

He didn't even know Lisa had re-entered his hospital room until she crouched down and began to slide his shoe on his foot.

"No, I can get it. Just give me a moment," Sam refused, pulling his foot out of range of the shoe Lisa held.

But when Lisa looked up at him, there wasn't a drop of pity in her eyes, was instead a teasing smile on her lips. "I'm a mom, Sam. Putting on shoes has been part of my daily life for years."

"Yeah, but I'm not Ben," Sam grumbled, wasn't going to be treated like a kid, not by her.

Sensing Sam's denials sprang more from pride than an aversion of her, Lisa dropped her gaze to the sneaker in her hands, worked the laces looser as she quietly spoke. "Dean sometimes fell asleep fully dressed with his shoes on. He wouldn't even sleep under the covers."

Sam stilled, desperately wanted to hear _anything_ about Dean, wanted to know something Lisa knew but Dean wouldn't talk to him about, wanted to know what Dean had been like without him, even as he knew it might break his heart. "How was he…after…"

Lisa busied herself more intently with the laces in Sam's other sneaker. "Broken," she candidly declared, her voice cracking with the admission, at the memories, at how badly she had ached to heal Dean. Sometimes she had had to walk away so Dean didn't see her crying in sympathetic anguish.

In the painful silence that fell in the room, Lisa slipped Sam's shoe on his one foot then the other and tied them. Sam didn't offer up one protest, not once. But before she could stand up, Sam's hand shot out, wrapped gently around her wrist. Looking up, she met the pain-filled, grateful gaze of Dean's brother.

"Thank you," Sam breathed and he knew it wasn't about the shoes, wasn't about Lisa's vigil at his side. It was for the woman's steadfast devotion to his brother, for being there for Dean when he couldn't be, for loving Dean, even after he broke him.

Then a nurse entered the room, interrupted the moment of quiet understanding that had fallen between the two people who loved Dean best. "Robert, you're awake!"

With a quick, fake smile, Sam acknowledged, "Yeah."

"Well your brother will have a pleasant surprise when he arrives," the nurse beamed.

Sam's head snapped to the nurse. "My brother? He's coming here?" Hope began to blossom where dread had dwelt a second ago.

"Sure is. He called a few hours ago, wanted to check on your condition and said he was coming to see you. It sounded like he had some driving to do to get here. But he'll see it was worth it when he walks through the door and sees that you're awake," the nurse cheerfully predicted, somehow remaining obvious that Sam was dressed, was planning on making his escape from the hospital.

Sam bowed his head and braced his hands on the bed, felt weak with relief and yet brimming with joy. Dean was alive, was alright, was coming back to him.

It didn't even register with Sam that the nurse was called out of the room. Raising his head, he looked to Lisa, instantly knew that her relief, it matched his own.

"Guess I…guess Ben and I will head home," Lisa stammered, knew that this wasn't a part of Dean's life that she was allowed to be in, that Dean wouldn't like her interference, certainly not now, not after what she had said about his relationship with Sam, not after she had said she was moving on, _wanted_ to move on. "But you'll call me when..when you see Dean, let me know…he's alright? I'll give you my phone number…" She started rustling in her purse for a piece of paper and a pen, used the search so she wouldn't have to read Sam's eyes anymore, see the condemnation for her cowardice in their earnest depths.

"Won't Ben be disappointed?" Sam evenly posed, knew it was probably wrong, to pretend that he was worried about Ben's feelings when he was only thinking of his brother's. When Lisa looked up but didn't answer right away, he remembered what Dean had said about his last talk with Ben. "I mean, I know Ben was mad at Dean but…"  
>"He wants to see Dean way more than he's angry with him," Lisa admitted, knew her son well enough to read behind his angry façade.<p>

"What about you?" Sam quietly asked, watched as Lisa shifted on her feet but held his gaze.

"What about me?" Lisa returned, tried to make it seem like she wasn't being obtuse on purpose, that her words about Ben couldn't just as easily be about how she was feeling, too.

Sensing a vulnerability in Lisa that he hadn't been privy to before, Sam softened his tone, "Don't you want to see Dean?"

Lisa couldn't hold back the bittersweet smile, couldn't lie, not to Sam's face. "I always want to see him. And I'm afraid I always will," she earnestly confessed, couldn't explain why she was trusting Sam with her innermost desires and fears anymore than she knew in her heart that her faith in him was not misplaced.

Sam nodded in silent understanding. He knew that particular yearning from his time in Stanford. How he had sought to be free …and yet felt he would die if another month passed without him getting to talk to his brother, to see his brother's brash smile, to have Dean's strength to lean on.

Deciding that he owed Lisa truth for truth, he tried to figure out how to express the sentiments that had been building in his chest ever since his soul was returned to him, since he woke up in the panic room, climbed up the stairs and heard the best sound ever: his brother's voice.

The words came out of him like a flood gate had been released. "You didn't turn him away, you helped him and I'm …" he stammered to a halt there, watched as Lisa suddenly stilled as if she was afraid of what he would say next, that his next words would be an ultimatum.

But it wasn't resentment or jealousy that Sam harbored for Lisa, for Ben, for their time with his brother. It was gratitude. "You kept him alive and I can't tell you how much that means to me. If I had somehow gotten out on my own and he wasn't…" he stopped himself there, couldn't say _dead_, couldn't go through the mental torture of remembering when that had been true. Instead he bit his lip a moment, huffed out a sigh and revealed, his voice raw with a thousand emotions, "It would have been for nothing 'cause I would have traded one hell for another."

"I know," Lisa earnestly choked out, because, though she didn't know true Hell, she knew the pain of having to live without someone that she loved.

Shame washed over Sam as it hit home that Lisa did know what he meant. And somehow, in some way that he didn't even _remember_, he had stolen Dean away from her, from Ben. But as much as he felt regret at causing them pain, he couldn't promise them what he would never mean. He wouldn't walk about from Dean, couldn't let Lisa and Ben _have_ Dean, not if it meant his brother wouldn't be with him.

"You don't have to tell Dean I was here," Lisa permitted as she shouldered her purse, discarding the idea of giving Sam her phone number the moment she read the resolve in Sam's eyes. She wasn't getting Dean back. Sam wasn't going to play matchmaker. There wasn't going to be a happy ending, not for her and Dean.

It was Lisa's generosity, her willingness to let Dean go, to let him have Dean, to let Dean have what she thought he wanted, needed most that broke through to Sam, made him realize that Lisa didn't show her love that much differently than Dean did. That hurting oneself was acceptable if it spared someone you loved pain. That Lisa loved Dean enough to break her own heart, even break her son's heart rather than break Dean's.

"We can find a way," Sam blurted out, watched as confusion wrinkled up her brow. "For it to work. That you don't have to give Dean up. That Ben doesn't. But…" he paused knew he was being selfish but he couldn't help but believe he had earned this, the right to be selfish, to have his brother, to not lose what he had given up the very world to keep safe. "But I'm not letting him go. I _can't_. You can't ask that of me."

It took Lisa a moment to catch up. She was still processing Sam's words, what he was offering, the hope it instilled in her but when it sank in, all of it, she shook her head fervently, "I'm not. I won't. I wouldn't ask that of you… or of Dean." '_Not anymore_.' Not now after she knew what it was like to be without Dean, what happened when she made him choose. Because Dean, he would never choose her, choose Ben, not if it meant not choosing Sam.

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Thanks for reading and for those awesome reviews for last chapter!

I would love some help on making a creative decision. Did Dean escape the hellhound totally unscathed? I'm just not sure which way to go on this.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W


	7. Chapter 7

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: Sorry but I didn't get as far as I hoped on this chapter. However, a few more answers are provided.

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Chapter 7

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"Dean!" Ben gleefully called out as he surged out of the waiting room chair, dashed across the hospital hallway and nearly tackled the older man in a tight hug.

Dean stumbled back a step as the small body crashed into him. "Ben?" he greeted with confusion even as he stood there, returned the boy's desperate embrace. Ignoring the hows and whys of how the boy came to be there, he reveled in Ben's affection, something he feared he would never experience again. He gave a chaste kiss to the top of the boy's head but didn't break the boy's frantic grip around his waist. Wasn't sure he was strong enough and certainly wasn't cruel enough to pull the boy away from him.

After a minute, Ben pulled back and tilted his head up, studied Dean with open affection.

When the boy didn't offer any explanation for his existence at the hospital, Dean placed a hand on Ben's shoulder and asked, "Ben, what are you doing here?"

Ben's words came out in a rush. "They called Mom and she thought you were the one hurt so we came here."

Immediately Dean grimaced at the mix-up. It had seemed like such a simple decision, to replace Sam's broken phone with his own, to slip his phone in Sam's jacket pocket before he dropped his brother off at the hospital. '_Yeah, like things have been going my way lately_,' he darkly thought, couldn't help think of the last few days, days that he hadn't been all too sure wouldn't be his last.

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Dean had decided, a long time ago, that Emergency Room parking lots should employ traffic cops. Because, seriously, someone should tell the smuck with the twisted ankle to NOT block the carport area so someone whose brother had, I don't know, been mauled by a friggin' hellhound could get his brother into the ER before he bled out.

"Come on! Come on! Don't leave your car there Gump!" Dean shouted as the man bailed from his car blocking the ER entrance and proceeded to limp toward the hospital doors.

"Dean, just stop here," Sam instructed, though his words came out too breathless to be forceful.

Dean obeyed his brother's order, would not deny Sammy anything at that moment, not when he was so pale, was covered in his own blood and had spent the entire ride from the motel to the hospital looking at him like he was going to be asked, sometime soon, to close his eyes and draw a picture of him from memory.

Pushing himself upright in the seat, Sam swallowed, purposely forced some strength into his next words because he knew they would ignite a battle of wills. "You gotta go."

Dean's reply was as fearsome as Sam predicted. "I'm not just dumping you…"

"Yeah, you are," Sam interrupted firmly, eyes blazing into Dean's, unwilling to lose this particular battle. "That ..thing has your scent. It's coming for you."

Dean looked away, muttered with frustrated acceptance, "I know. I can't lead it into a hospital…to you."

Sam managed, even in his fatigue, to scowl at his brother's conclusion. "You really think it's me ...or some strangers I'm worried about. Dean, you stay in one place too long and …" he swallowed down the rest of words, knew some of his dry mouth had to do with blood loss but not all of it. "You have to trap it and kill it with the knife."

Dean faced Sam, grumbled, "Which we're not sure will work on it."

"Use one of Castiel's swords. We know they work," Sam suggested, pretended he hadn't spent the last half of the trip to the hospital trying to devise a way for Dean to kill what hunted him. The first half he had spent trying to tell his body it was OK, that he wasn't a liability to Dean, that he could stay with Dean and protect him.

Dean winced at the sword suggestion. "I haven't had the best luck with swords lately, Sam." The broken dragon slaying sword was proof of that.

Hearing Dean's less than confident tone, Sam started to recant his decision, tried to convince himself that if he stayed with Dean he wouldn't slow his brother down. " Maybe I could …"

"No, you're staying here, getting patched up," Dean cut across Sam's statement, steel in his tone but it was all worry showing in his eyes.

"Dean…" Sam protested, suddenly knew the nausea he was feeling, it wasn't from the wounds he had suffered, was instead at the thought of Dean, alone, with a hellhound unrelentingly chasing him, intent on doing again what he had done a few years ago in New Harmony: rip his brother to shreds.

"I'll ditch the pooch with a fatal attraction for me and be back in time to help you rate your nurses," Dean cockily returned, could see that Sam's eyes were beginning to get that panicked look in them.

"Dean," Sam pleaded, was too worried to be placated by Dean's bravo.

Turning in the Impala's benchseat, Dean faced his little brother. "Sam, you're right. I can't stay…and you can't go with me." And it hurt, saying the words, meaning the words, hurt worse than Dean thought it would.

Sam's chest constricted and he bit his lip, could only nod his head in anguished agreement. But when Dean looked hurt by his silence, as if he took it as a refusal, Sam managed to croak out, "I know," and it reeked of bitter anguish, of self-hatred for getting himself hurt, for making himself useless to Dean. Before Dean changed his mind, decided to risk his life just to hold his little brother's hand while he got stitched up, Sam opened the Impala door and used the doorframe to lever himself out of the car.

Dean's hand hovered at Sam's back. He ached to support Sam's climb from the car, wanted to fly out his door, circle the Impala and help Sam into the ER, wanted to ensure that Sam didn't stumble, didn't land on the asphalt. Instead he did the only thing he could. He inconspicuously slid his cell phone in Sam's jacket. Because Sam not being able to call him was acceptable, but him not being about to check on Sam, make sure Sam was Ok, that would have been totally unacceptable, would have made leaving Sam behind an impossibility. With that task accomplished, he fisted his hands around the steering wheel and clenched his jaw, watched as his brother swayed on the hospital's sidewalk.

Leaning back in the Impala's doorway, bloody hand braced on the roof of the car, Sam met Dean's eyes, could see the jump of his brother's jaw, knew it went against Dean's every instinct, to leave him behind, especially hurt, to not stay and protect him. "Be careful Dean. I'll be here when you get back." The statement was as much a vow as a demand for a promise to be made in return.

A promise Dean's didn't make

"The thing's going down," Dean growled, a lethal edge to the declaration. And he tried to pretend he didn't see the disappointment in his brother's eyes, that he didn't know the promise Sam was fishing for and he couldn't give. He wouldn't lie to Sam, wouldn't promise something he didn't know if he could deliver. He had gone up against this particular hellhound before and lost, badly. '_Apparently now the thing has a real yen for the taste for my blood_.' Blocking out the fear that thought put down his spin, he affectionately ordered, "Take care of yourself, Sammy."

Sam looked like he wanted to say something more but in the end, he simply closed the car door.

Putting the Impala into reverse, Dean saw that his brother was just standing on the hospital sidewalk, was not moving toward the entrance but was watching him. And Sam looked all the world like that scared eight year old kid he remembered his Dad dumping off at yet another new school.

If the hound didn't already deserve to die for hurting Sam, it certainly did after making him drop his bleeding brother off at the hospital and run away, treat Sam like he was some hitchhiker he picked up along the highway, someone he didn't know and didn't care about.

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So yeah, it was brilliant thinking on Dean's part, giving Sam his phone. Only the hospital royally screwed up his plan. Apparently confiscated the phone the first chance they got. And then they not only put on the voice mail so that every time he called he ended up leaving a message with _himself_ begging Sam to call him, but they had also scrolled through his speed dials and came up with Lisa as an emergency contact person.

Long past wondering when his ill luck was going to change, Dean focused on the only source of information he presently had. "Did you just get here, Ben?"

Ben shook his head. "We came yesterday afternoon. Stayed here all night."

Dean froze, tried to make sense of that, of why Lisa and Ben had come at all, even if they thought he was the injured one, why they had stayed when they realized it was Sam who was hurt. "Where's your Mom now?"

"Where she's been the whole time. With Sam."

Dean felt his worry for his brother skyrocket. When he had finally been able to get the hospital's phone number and call in, the nurse had stonewalled him, had only said Sam wasn't conscious yet. "Is he…"

"He's awake. He's checking out now. We were going to go find you," Ben reassured, proud that he was going to be part of the rescue team.

Sam waking up and immediately checking himself out, that stubbornness was all Sam, made Dean's racing heart settle into a more sedate pace. "Ok, well let's go see him and your Mother."

"Wait," Ben implored, blocking Dean's way, his hands suddenly latching onto Dean's jacket.

Seeing the emotions in Ben's eyes, the upset, Dean stilled, gave the boy that he would have been proud to call his son time to get the words out. But instead of talking, Ben bowed his head, seemed to huddle closer to him like he was seeking his protection. It sent warning bells going off in Dean.

Carefully bending down to be eye level with the boy, Dean put his hand behind Ben's neck and rubbed his thumb gently over the tender skin there. "Hey kiddo. What's wrong?"

Ben raised his head to find that Dean's eyes weren't clouded with impatience but were sharp with affectionate interest. It made his next words all the harder to get out. "I'm sorry for calling you a liar…and that other name," shame coloring his cheeks at the name he had called the only man he had ever thought of as a father. But Dean's face didn't reflect reprimand or anger, instead a smirk teased up his lips. Encouraged by Dean's reaction, Ben continued, "When I thought you were hurt..and then when it was Sam hurt but you weren't here…I thought…" his youthful voice cracked, but it was a single tear slipping free that told Dean exactly what the little boy had feared. Briskly Ben wiped the tear away, looked everywhere but at Dean.

Dean wasn't built to ignore anyone else's pain, to not assuage someone's fears, especially someone that he loved. Drawing closer, he pulled Ben into his arms and the little boy didn't protest, came willingly, tightly coiled his arms around Dean's back. Chin resting on the top of the boy's head, Dean reassured, "I'm not mad at you, Ben. You were right…You're my family too and I haven't been there for you."

Ben pulled back from Dean's hold, his youthful but astute eyes searching Dean's. What he saw in the older man's eyes had him tightened his grip on Dean's shirt even as he bitterly predicted, "But you're not coming home."

"Ben, we talked about this. It's better if I stay away," Dean carefully stated, didn't want to hurt Ben, for Ben to think that his mother was to blame. He had done this, he had screwed up. Not Lisa and certainly not Ben.

"No, no, it's not!" Ben woefully refuted. "I won't turn into you. I won't do what you do. I won't touch anything in your car trunk. I'll stay in the house after school, won't go anywhere without your permission. Whatever you don't want me to do, I won't do."

Dean felt his heart breaking, knew that his actions and words of the past had hurt Ben, had given the boy a false belief that he was the one in the wrong. "Ben, it's not you. It's nothing you did or didn't do. It's me."

"You're not bad, Dean!" Ben defiantly insisted, grabbing onto Dean's hand as if to hold onto the older man and not let him go. "You won't ever be evil, not to me."

Dean's breath caught at Ben's innocence, at the boy's belief in him, even after the way he had hurt him, hurt his mother. "That means a lot to me, Ben. It does."

"Then come back home."

"I have a job to do and besides that, you mother and I…she's dating someone else Ben. She's trying to make a new life for you." '_A life that is safe, that doesn't involve someone who wakes up screaming from nightmares, who doesn't indulge in drinking binges. A life that won't have shapeshifters breaking into your house, monsters into your lives_,' Dean silently tacked on, knew that Lisa wouldn't have been able to deny any of those statements.

"She doesn't care about any of those other guys," Ben boldly insisted, his chin going up as if he dared Dean to challenge his statement.

"Guy**s**. More than the doctor now," Dean mumbled as he braced his hands on his legs and slowly levered himself to his full height. He had a vision of men lining around the block to take Lisa out.

Ben smiled cockily at Dean's oblivious irritation, as if he had a secret he was dying to share.

Dean tilted his head, knew that Cheshire cat look on the boy only too well. "Ok, spill."

No further prompted was needed for Ben to hurriedly provide his evidence. "I heard Mom tell Grandma that if the doctor guy wouldn't even pick her up at the house, she wasn't going to go out with him anymore."

"Sounds reasonable," Dean said with calm composure, inside he was silently cheering Lisa on for dumping Doctor I'm-too-sexy-to-pick-you-up.

"Dean, she drove three **hours** to see you," Ben pointed out, as if the older man needed his help to see what was so obvious to him. The Dean's reply convinced him of that fact.

"Ben, that's probably because she thought I was _dying_. Now lead the way to Sam's room," Dean coaxed, resting his hand on Ben's shoulder as they headed down the hallway.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and for the wonderful reviews and I loved that so many people gave me their votes on the Dean injured/not injured debate! I'm sorry that I didn't get the brothers reunite yet but poor Ben needed some TLC from Dean. (It's an area of the show I'm a little disappointed with. Dean is GREAT with kids but they haven't had Dean be very affectionate with Ben. So alas, I wrote fanfiction to solve that issue for me.)

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	8. Chapter 8

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: And the votes on Dean's fate have been tallied!

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Chapter 8

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There wasn't a sound, none that Lisa could hear, but Sam's head snapped up and his eyes immediately went to the doorway as if he sensed…

'_Dean was about to come strolling right in_,' she thought as Dean did just that, her son glued to his side. And it hit her, like it always did every time Dean walked back into her life after she feared he never would again, how much she loved him. This time, it was worse than all the rest because she had thought..…when Sam told her what was after Dean, when Dean had abandoned his brother and hadn't shown up for days…It was her worst nightmare come true.

'_And this is the dream I keep pretending I don't want, can live without_,' she chided as she took in Dean's every feature, watched as his eyes instantly sought out, not her but his brother.

"Dean," Sam warmly welcomed like it had been years not days since they had parted, his smile eluding relief and happiness.

"Sammy, you alright?" Dean asked, eyes intently taking a mental catalog of his brother's features, the paleness of them, the bulk of bandages hiding under his t-shirt.

"I'm good. You?" Sam countered, was already doing his own study of his brother.

"Didn't end up a chew toy this time," Dean answered with a smirk before he turned his attention to Lisa. "Lisa."

Reveling in the sight of Dean, alive and in one piece and marveling at the intense but loving interaction between the two brothers, Lisa was caught off guard by suddenly being Dean's focus. "Dean," she replied like they were mere acquaintances, that she didn't go to bed missing him and wake up reaching for him. It was tangible, the rift between them, a rift that Dean hadn't created but she had.

Shifting on her feet, she wondered if she was right, that she didn't belonged there, that Dean didn't _want _her there. She was about to excuse herself and Ben, tell the brothers that they would head home now that Sam was OK, that they knew Dean was. Sam spoke before she could.

"You sure you're not hurt, Dean?" Sam pressed because something was not sitting right with him, the way Dean answered his question about being OK and then wouldn't meet his eyes, the way Dean _looked_, moved. He knew his brother well enough to know when something was off with him.

Pulling his eyes from Lisa and stepping away from Ben, Dean came to a stop in front of his seated brother and pulled on a small smile, "You're the guy who is in the hospital. And you totally still look like crap." Dean reached out and gently tilted Sam's head up, got a good look at the cut on his brother's forehead and the dullness in his eyes. "You should stay another day or so, Sam," he quietly suggested as he removed his touch from his brother's face, felt a deep stab of guilt that Sam had been so severely hurt because of him, because Sam sought to protect him.

"I already checked myself out," Sam distractedly answered.

"About that. What were you thinking? You look like a light breeze could knock you over," Dean reprimanded, would never condone Sam being careless with his health.

The fact that Dean was oblivious to _why _Sam was checking himself out had Sam firing back, his pent up fear turning to anger, "What I was _thinking_ was, you weren't here and I had no idea where you were, if you were still running or if the hellhound had ripped you apart," his voice shattering on the last word, as the memoires hit too sharply, stole his breath away. He turned his head away, had thought he was past this, could keep his emotions in check better than this.

Gutted that he had put Sam through that worry, Dean tried to explain, "Sam, I called but …"

"You were gone…for days," Sam quietly broke into Dean's excuse, and he didn't mean for it to come out as an accusation, because what he was feeling, had felt was fear and dread and pain. "Not that I'm blaming you or…needed you here but…" he shot a look to Lisa, knew he had just belittled what she had done for him for the past two days but her eyes, they weren't on him, were locked on Dean, as if she was waiting for Dean's answer as fervently as he was.

Dean sighed tiredly, ran his hand through his hair. "Thing ran me down like a greyhound chasing a rabbit," he admitted with aggravation, was almost as mad at himself for not being able to end the fiasco quicker than he was at the hound. But then remembering his audience, that Ben was intently listening to every word he said, he edited his explanation, "Took me a few days and a few states before I…could take care of it."

Sam wanted to latch onto Dean's words, to be reassured by them but he couldn't crush his lingering fear, not until he knew one thing. "It's dead, right? Won't be …"

"Coming back for a sequel?" Dean smart mouthed. He smirked at Sam's huff of irritation before he guaranteed, "No, definitely not."

Sam thought that knowing the hound was dead, it would wipe away all of his fears. But it didn't. He just couldn't shrug off the grief that had started to build in him when he had feared the worst had happened. Sensing Dean was about to step back, put some distance between them, Sam reached out, grabbed Dean's jacket.

In surprise, Dean halted, met his brother's anxious gaze.

"Knife or sword?" Sam interrogated. Ignoring the jerk of Dean's head, hinting that he should monitor what he said in front of their very attentive audience, he persisted, "Which, Dean?"

"Knife. Worked great by the way," Dean boasted before he changed the topic of conversation. "So I say we move this reunion to someplace that has cheeseburgers on the menu," he recommended, beginning to turn around to include Ben and Lisa in the invite but found that Sam, instead of loosening his grip on his jacket had tightened it.

"Tell me the truth, Dean," Sam demanded, his sharp tone cutting across the jovial mood Dean was working so hard to create in the room.

Turning back to face his brother, Dean sported his most convincing carefree mask. "About what?" he laughingly asked.

"You're hurt," Sam frankly stated, his tone carrying more concern than accusation.

Alarmed, Lisa's eyes flew to Dean, tried to detect in Dean what Sam had. But she couldn't.

"I told you I'm…" Dean began to declare but he fell silent as Sam's eyes pleaded with him to come clean.

"You don't want me to worry about you, right? You want the focus to be on me, on me healing up. Well, Dean, things don't work that way," Sam fired back, knew that Dean's intentions, they were good, but only for him, never for Dean himself. "Not anymore. We've been through too much crap to pretend that we don't care, that one of us hurting doesn't mean both of us are hurting."

"Sam," Dean began, his eyes beseeching his brother to drop it, to let him just lick his wounds in private, to certainly not let Ben and Lisa be witnesses to his vulnerability.

"Lisa, go get a doctor for Dean," Sam ordered even as he unflinchingly held his brother's gaze, ready and willing to call Dean's bluff.

Stunned to be brought into the verbal battle, Lisa opened her mouth, honestly didn't know whose side to take. And then she did, realized that she wholly trusted Sam's instincts when it came to Dean, to Dean's wellbeing, that however much she needed Dean to be alright, Sam needed it more, would never risk his brother's life.

Hearing footfalls behind him, knowing that Lisa was doing Sam's bidding, Dean ordered, "Lis, wait," without breaking the stare down between him and his little brother. And though Sam looked fragile, weak, like he wasn't going to be able to stand on his own two feet, his brother's stubbornness was a livewire blazing in his eyes. "So I have a few scratches," Dean conceded lightly, expected Sam's stern expression to melt into one of satisfaction at his victory not greater worry.

"Scratches from a _hellhound_, Dean. Not a Yorkie!" Sam exploded, hated that Dean was doing what he always did, was downplaying his own injuries.

Dean shrugged, as if the difference made no difference.

Sam knew he was close to totally losing his temper, that Lisa and Ben were watching the exchange, uncertain if they should intervene or go get security. Pulling in a steadying breath, Sam looked up at Dean. "Just…don't. Don't pretend you're not in pain." And he was a second away from telling Dean that he knew first hand how painful the "scratches" from a hellhound were but didn't. Dean knew so much better than he did the agony the hounds could inflict. "So how bad is it?"

For a second, Dean contemplated continuing the charade, until he saw what lurked even stronger in his brother's gaze than stubbornness: worry. For him. "Not bad."

Sam scowled, cursed himself for thinking Dean would choose to be honest all on his own.

Taking pity on Sam, Dean exhaled in frustration. "Gosh, you're a nag. Fine. I need some stitches. I couldn't reach all the places myself."

Sam paled at the "all the places" Dean had let slip. "Dean, you should just go down to the ER…"

"And use what insurance, Sam?" Dean quietly asked, held Sam's eyes and knew when his brother made the connection. "I don't have any insurance for myself with the last name Plant. And they know I'm your brother. I called in here asking for an update on you, asked for your room number at the front desk, am standing in your room right now. I'm really not interested in getting busted for insurance fraud today."

"It's a big hospital, Dean. If we use a credit card.." Sam deliberated

Lisa stepped closer, hated to intrude but knew she had to make her own confession, that it had to weigh in on their decision. "I ..I kinda said I was Sam's sister in law," her eyes meeting Sam's before she focused on Dean. "Your wife," she clarified before she hurriedly explained, "They wouldn't let me make any decisions for Sam if I wasn't related and I thought…you weren't here and …."

But instead of being irked at her deception, Dean looked amused. "So you're Lisa Plant now."

A teasing smile found its way on Lisa's lips. "I kept my maiden name. I'm an independent woman."

"Tell me something I don't know," Dean groused with mock chagrin, but there was a deep vein of respect in his eyes as they held hers.

"Ok, so we hit the next hospital down the road," Sam recommended. "It can't be more than an hour's drive. Are you ok to wait that long?" his eyes searching Dean's, looking for the chink in his brother's armor that would tell him just how badly his brother was hurting.

"Sam, I just drove five hours to get here. I'm fine. I don't even _need_ a hospital. I just need some stitches," Dean downplayed, wished he knew what he had done to tip Sam off that he was hurt because he so hadn't wanted Sam to find out, to freak out over some stupid scratches he got when Sam was healing up from wounds that he nearly died from. Suddenly he cursed himself for not taking care of the wounds before returning to Sam but when he had called the hospital and they told him Sam wasn't even awake, it had scared any small considerations for his own health right out him. He broke every land speed limit to get back to his brother.

"How steady are your hands right now?" He asked, knew that if Sam played a part in helping him, it would go a long way to erase that kicked puppy dog look in his brother's features.

Sam didn't bother raising his hands from the mattress, looked mortified as he admitted, "They aren't. How about a clinic?"

"It's Saturday night, all boarded up for the weekend. Bobby's?" Dean tossed out.

"That's a ten hour drive," Sam pointed out.

"So."

Sam's eyes flashed with steely resolve as he practically growled, "No, Dean."

Dean was preparing another campaign to win that battle but Sam's frosty glare stopped it cold.

Silence fell as the brothers held each other's gaze, both brainstorming.

Without warning, Dean snapped his fingers, let a gloating smile transform his features. "Doctor Robert. He's only a little over an hour away," he announced, like it was the answer to all their prayers.

Sam's response was a menacingly bitter laugh, "Yeah, no _way_ am I letting that quack touch you again."

"Quack? He helped me get your soul back, Sam," Dean heatedly defended.

"He made your heart stop, Dean! ON PUPROSE!" Sam shouted back, had a whole lot to say about Dean risking his life to have a chat with Death, had a lot he wanted to DO to the man who had, in effect, killed his brother. For money. Dean's money.

"Sam!" Dean warned, eyes telling Sam to shut up, to think what he was saying with Lisa and Ben listening.

But Sam was in no mood to screen his conversation or check his emotions. "If I ever lay eyes on him, he's going to be the one needing a doctor…or a mortician," he darkly promised.

"Sam, I asked him to, remember?" Dean pointed out, sought to appease Sam, didn't want his brother to go off half cocked on some revenge trip. "He was just.."

"I'll do it," Lisa interrupted the brotherly bickering. It earned her the surprised attention of both Winchesters. "I can do it," she firmly proclaimed, hoped her voice wasn't showing the insecurity, the down right terror that was running through her. "I'll put in the stitches," she qualified, thought she had to since Dean and Sam were looking at her like she was speaking a language they didn't understand.

"Lisa, this isn't like fixing a pair of jeans I ripped," Dean challenged not unkindly, his eyes meeting hers.

"I know that," Lisa quietly agreed, dread nearly closing her throat at the possibility that she would mess up, end up hurting Dean more than helping him. But she didn't rescind her offer. "I learned about guns, where to lay down the salt line, how to draw the devil's trap. I can learn to do this too," she insisted, knew in her heart that she would do much more for Dean.

Instead of refuting Lisa's claim, Dean turned to Ben and gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. "Hey, Ben. Can you help Sam get his stuff together while I talk to your Mom. Sam's a real slob, leaves stuff lying around everywhere."

Receiving a permissive nod from his mother, Ben agreed, "Sure."

As Dean followed Lisa out of the room, Sam gave a sarcastic parting shot, "Yeah, I'm the slob."

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Lisa was already pacing by the time Dean joined her in the waiting room. But it only took one touch of Dean's fingers gently running over her hand to bring her to a standstill in front of him. His touch left her way before she was ready for it to.

"Lisa, you said you and Ben couldn't be in this with me," Dean quietly quoted, hoping to convince Lisa to come to her senses, to remind her that his life was screwed up, that _he _was screwed up, that she was right to get out the first chance she had.

Lisa cringed as her own words were recited back to her. Cold words, words that had burned leaving her throat, that seared her ears now. "I changed my mind."

'_Don't Lisa. Don't make this harder on me than it already is_,' Dean silently beseeched, knew that she was reacting out of fear, out of some misplaced worry for him, that she would undo her sound decisions just to help him. "You don't have to do this. I'm **fine**, Lisa," he earnestly pledged.

"Sam doesn't think you're fine," Lisa countered, would have never believed that she would trust Sam's word more than Dean's. But in this, she did. She had had an entire year of Dean's denials, of Dean proclaiming he was fine when he was anything but. She knew that Dean thought his pain was a burden on others, a burden he didn't willingly place on anyone. Not on her and Ben, not even on Sam apparently, unless his little brother called him on it like he did today.

"Oh," Dean drawled a teasingly lilt to his tone, "so now you two are gonna team up against me?"

With a flirty, cocky smile, Lisa declared, "If we have to." But too soon she saw the humor fade away in Dean's eyes, knew that he wasn't going to just give in. It wasn't in his nature.

"I put you and Ben through enough," Dean huskily reminded her, daring her to deny it, to say it was all hearts and flowers, him living with them, him attacking her, shoving Ben.

Lisa knew Dean thought he had her backed into a corner, that anything she said he would be able to refute. So she played her ace like the poker player he had taught her to be. "You told me to ask you for something. Well, I am."

"What? To play Dr. Quinn?" Dean scornfully challenged. "To turn your house into a rehabilitation center for me and Sam? Trust me, that is not what you want, Lisa."

Instead of retreating at Dean's harsh words, Lisa stepped closer, hated that Dean flinched when she reached out, that he expected pain when all she wanted to offer him was comfort. Gently, she settled her hand on his cheek. When Dean instinctively leaned into her touch, it gave her the courage to tell the truth. "You being hurt, that is never something I want. But me helping you, you coming home, Sam coming with you.." seeing the protest in his eyes, she tacked on, "even if it is only for a few days right now…That is what I want."

And then, before Dean could object, could think he had a chance to change her mind, Lisa walked away, headed right to the nurse's station and began haggling with the nurse for another prescription of pain killers because Sam, he wasn't the only Winchester in pain.

Finding himself standing alone in the hospital waiting area, apparently ready to argue with thin air, Dean rubbed his forehead in exhausted exasperation. "I should have let the hellhound finish me off," he muttered under his breath, knew that once Lisa made up her mind, there was no changing it, a trait that was way too similar to Sam's. "They are so ganging up on me," he petulantly grumbled as he tiredly headed back to Sam's room and mentally braced himself to be 'momma beared' to death.

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TBC

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I'll have you guys know that I was going to be _nice_ to Dean this story. I thought I would hurt Sam and leave poor Dean unscathed because I always, _always_ abuse the man. But you guys made me see the error of my ways, that Dean HAD to be hurt. And your wish was my command. Hope you like it!

Thanks so much for reading and for all the wonderful encouraging reviews!

Have a great evening!

Cheryl W.


	9. Chapter 9

Vigil

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: The Sam and Ben portion of this chapter was prompted by Reaper's Curse casual " Loved to see Ben with his Uncle." Just goes to show you should be careful what you put into my head!

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Chapter 9

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Sam wasn't that great with kids, he knew that. That was Dean's specialty, not his. But Ben, he looked so like Dean did when he was worried about something. It caused Sam's instincts to fix what was broken to come online. "Hey," he reached his hand out toward Ben as the boy started to do as Dean suggested, pack up his meager possession in his small arms. "You don't have to do that. I'll get it together on my way out the door."

Ben's look was half suspicion and half relief. "Dean said…."

"I'm the little brother, I don't have to always listen to him," Sam joked back with a smile, one that Ben didn't reciprocate. "So, we could kill some time playing a game," he suggested, nodding toward the electronic game sticking out of the boy's pocket.

"Ok," Ben agreed, approached Sam somewhat cautiously.

Sam slid over further on the bed, offering an unvoiced invitation. When Ben hopped onto the bed at his side, Sam understood why Dean always crumbled when a kid was involved in their cases. That Ben was willing to sit beside him, gave him that trust without asking for anything back in return, it was humbling.

Minutes later, Sam bemoaned, "Oh, no, no, no! Why's my guy dying!" as he frantically pushed buttons on the game and only to lose yet another round to the twelve year old. The kid was beating the stuffing out of him.

"Mom forgets," Ben quietly announced, looking down at his hands instead of taking the game from Dean's brother.

The boy's solemn tone catching him by surprise, Sam straightened up, looked at the boy's bowed head. "What does she forget?" he gently asked, knew that he had to tread carefully so he didn't spook the boy into silence. It wasn't so different than how he handled an unnaturally contemplative Dean.

"That Dean didn't bring the first monster into our house. I did," Ben mournfully whispered as he slowly raised his eyes to meet Sam's. "It came for me, like it did for the other kids. And it would have killed me if Dean didn't find me."

Sam exhaled, nodded his head in understanding. If anyone knew what it felt like to be targeted by something evil, to worry that it was something he had done that brought it there, it was him. Before he could say anything, Ben continued.

Encouraged by Sam's nod, by the signs of understanding not revulsion in the tall man's expression, Ben defiantly challenged, "If Mom won't let Dean come back because she's worried monsters will follow him home, she should make me go too."

"Ben, no! Your mother loves you and wants to protect you," Sam quickly refuted, felt some of his heart break for the kid.

"She has a funny way of showing it," the boy muttered, taking the game out of Sam's slack hold and slipping it into his pocket.

'_I'm so out of my league_,' Sam panicked, his eyes flickering to the doorway, praying that Dean would walk in, rescue him like he almost always did. But not today. Not in this. Fighting down his fear that he would screw up and say something that would mentally scar Ben for life, he swallowed noticeably and then just told Ben what he had learned, at a very high price. "Sometimes, Ben, we do some things to protect the ones we love but we end up hurting them even worse." And he had a thousand instances he couldn't share, not with a twelve year old boy: teaming up with Ruby, drinking her blood, keeping secrets from Dean, thinking that he was strong enough on his own to jump into the pit, didn't need to practically drag Dean into it with him.

Shaking his head, getting his mind out of the past he couldn't change, Sam saw that Ben was watching him with expectant eyes, was waiting for him to say more, to be brilliant and solve all his problems. "Your Mom, she's trying to do what's best for you."

Surprised that Dean's brother wasn't brushing his words off, wasn't telling him that adults _always_ made the right decisions, Ben revealed his heart's desire. "What's best for me is for Dean to come back home. But they won't listen to me, won't even give me a vote if Dean's in my life."

Sensing Ben's frustration and helplessness and sorrow, Sam admitted, "Sometimes it felt like my Dad didn't give me any say in anything that I did. That he made all the decisions for me and I couldn't make any choices I wanted to. And I…" he gave a quick hit and run smile at the memories. "I wanted to join the soccer team in the worst, _worst_ possible way. Course my dad wouldn't even let me talk to him about it."

"Sounds familiar," Ben grumbled, could so relate to that.

"Except I got on the team and we even went to the district championship," Sam said, was pleased when he got a surprised expression out of Ben.

"You sneaked behind your Dad's back and joined the team?" Ben hazarded.

"Nope," Sam shut down Ben's guess with a smirk. "Dean convinced my Dad to let me play. And Dean always made sure I had a way to all the games and came to as many as he could." Leaning down closer to Ben, he gently explained, "See my Dad, he was all gung ho to protect me against monsters but Dean, he wanted to protect my innocence, to let me be a kid, wanted to make sure I had _fun_. But just because my dad and Dean treated me differently, they both loved me, were both doing what they thought was best for me."

"Like Mom and Dean are," Ben grumbled as if he wasn't happy with the conclusion Sam had forced him to draw. "It still sucks to be without a vote."

Sam chuckled, "I didn't say it didn't," which caused Ben to look up at him and give a snort of laughter.

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Sam honestly didn't think he would ever see the day that Dean would let someone, besides them, drive the Impala. Andy Gallagher had put the Jedi Mind Trick on Dean, so he didn't count. And Gary Frankel had used a whole difference scam to get behind the Impala's wheel, namely wearing his body.

But Lisa, she simply released the warm grip she had on Dean's hand, took two steps forward in the hospital parking lot, opened the passenger door of the Impala and looked at Dean expectantly. Dean's expression was one that Sam hadn't seen in a long while, like when they were kids and their Dad insisted Dean sit down and be nice to an elderly neighbor.

"Come on, Lisa. I can drive," Dean whined, looked about a breath away from stumping his foot.

"Sure, Ok," Lisa conceded with a congenial smile but she didn't move a muscle, not to get in the car's passenger side or to head to her own car parked at the southern end of the lot. "Ben, Sam and I will take the Impala. You can drive my car home but it's been overheating lately so every hour you might have to pull over, put in some water, let it cool down."

Already betting how things were going to turn out, Ben climbed into the back seat of the Impala and slid over to the other side. He kept the door open for Sam to follow, even gave Sam a beckoning wave of his hand to get in awhile. But Sam hesitated, wasn't so sure of the victor.

"I _drove_ here, Lisa," Dean emphatically stated.

"Get in the car, Dean, or I will leave without you," she threatened but her tone was gentle and her eyes crinkled with humor.

Dean bowed his head, stepped forward like an errant school boy sentenced to the corner, mumbled moodily as he sank down into the seat, "It's _my_ car. I go where it goes."

Smiling down at Dean, Lisa sallied, "Oh, I _know_ that," before she shut the door, saw his shocked eyes meeting hers through the glass.

'_I just got played_,' Dean realized, knew that Lisa had threatened to drive off in the Impala knowing full well that there was no way he wouldn't be inside when it left.

A witness to Lisa effectively outfoxing his brother, Sam gave a bark of laughter, shared a triumphant look with Lisa and then carefully maneuvered his still hurting body into the car.

An accusation was hurled from the front seat, "Et Tu, Brute."

"Oh yeah," Sam eagerly admitted, laughter carrying in his tone, not even bothering to deny his enjoyment at Lisa's victory or his own plans to further sabotage his brother's usual stoicism toward his own pain.

"Ben, whatever you do, do not follow Sam's examples, OK? He's a brat," Dean joked, meeting Ben's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Right," Ben agreed even as he, out of Dean's sight, bumped his fist conspiringly against Sam's.

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Once, Lisa had seen Ben bleeding profusely from his mouth after he got a tooth knocked out by a flying baseball and that had scared her, badly. On too many nights, she had watched Dean jerk awake from their bed, eyes fearful and body shaking and that had been unsettling. Both things had made her ache to do the impossible, to make the pain instantly go away.

She wasn't used to being the one causing pain to the ones she loved. '_Not physical pain, anyways_,' she amended, knew that, as much as she didn't want to, she had hurt Ben on many occasions, had hurt Dean so badly lately that she didn't understand why he was even there, trusted her to do what she was about to do. But Dean did. The look in his eyes was unmistakable.

"You call this not being hurt, Dean!" Sam railed at his brother while his touch was exceedingly gentle as he prodded the savage claw marks, one set that tracked over Dean's right shoulder and unto his back, the other two crisscrossed on his upper chest, all of which were still seeping blood.

"I believe I said I wasn't the hound's _chew toy_. And you won't find a single bite mark on me," Dean defended his earlier declaration, knew by the way Sam's jaw clenched and Lisa's eyes flashed that neither were impressed with his exploitation of semantics.

"Is it too bad? Does he need to go to the hospital?" Lisa asked, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for Sam's answer. As much as she had coached herself to not freak out at the first sight of Dean's wounds, it hadn't done her any good. She had helped Dean slide off his button up shirt and pull his t-shirt over his head and watched as Sam carefully peeled the bandages away, bandages that were spotted through with blood. But her breath had caught painfully in her throat when she saw the deep, savage scratches marring Dean's chest, shoulder and back. And she couldn't help think that, on someone less stubborn than Dean Winchester, they would have been fatal wounds.

Scooting to the edge of his chair to get a better look at the damage to his brother's back, Sam purposefully rested his hand on Dean's spine, wasn't sure who the connection was for more, himself or Dean. And the one touch told him two things: that Dean was running a fever and he wasn't trembling, wasn't going into shock. Almost reluctantly he slid his hand free of Dean's back, scrunched back in the chair Lisa had sat as close to Dean as possible for him. But it wasn't Lisa he consulted about the hospital decision, but Dean.

"These are deep, Dean. You think it's down to your muscles?" Sam questioned, focus zeroed in on his brother's pain dulled eyes.

Dean moved his left arm, then rotated his shoulder, grimaced in pain but his voice was steady as he made his report. "It didn't go that deep, still have full mobility in my shoulder and arm."

Sam nodded, trusted Dean and trusted his own ability to detect Dean's pain enough to know that his conclusion matched his brother's. "So you really don't want to try a hospital? We're looking at pretty many stitches."

But Dean's eyes left Sam's, looked up to Lisa. "You can back out. Maybe you could call your Doctor Matt? I hear he does house calls…but only if you're in his five mile radius."

Dean's verbal jab, it did what it was supposed to, helped Lisa break out of her terrified stupor. She railed back, "Ben told you wrong," knew full well that Ben's first words to Dean would have been crowing about how she had systematically ousted every other suitor from her life. At Dean's raised eyebrow of surprise and trepidation, she finished, "It's up to a _ten mile radius_. Otherwise it's not considered a business expense." Smirking at her own humor, she evilly enjoyed Dean's momentary worry that Ben had been wrong, that Matt was still his competition.

"Is that so," Dean drawled, a very-sure-of-himself smile beginning to emerge on his paling features. "Darn, and you live _outside_ that radius."

Not privy to the private joke, Sam simply watched the exchange between Dean and Lisa, felt…soothed by it. It was like watching Dean and Bobby quibble over which was the best part to use from all of the wrecks Singer had in the salvage yard.

When Dean turned and winked at him like he should share in the joke, Sam suddenly knew he belonged there, that he wasn't an interloper. That whatever Dean managed to salvage of the life he had once had with Lisa and Ben, his brother expected him to be part of it.. But more than that. Dean _wanted_ him to be part of it.

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When Dean captured her hand in his, Lisa's head snapped up in alarm and her eyes searched Dean's face. Instantly she wondered if Dean had changed his mind, didn't trust her after all to help him.

"I won't be mad or…disappointed in you if you don't do this," Dean tenderly reassured, rubbed his thumb along Lisa's strong but delicate hand that held the sterilized needle and thread.

Exchanging a quick look with his brother, Sam nodded his head and pushed himself out of the chair. Stiffly he headed to the kitchen, more than willing to let Dean and Lisa have their privacy. '_I hope the painkillers are still on the countertop where Lisa left them_.'

Watching Sam disappear into the kitchen, frowning a little at the pain he could read in his brother's motions, Dean turned his attention back to Lisa. "Lisa, you don't have to be part of this, of my life, of the violence in my life."

"I don't have to be, you're right," Lisa openly admitted, saw the way Dean's eyes dulled further at her statement. The rest of the speech that she rehearsed over and over again in her head the whole way home came out a little slower but with no less sincerity. "I could keep pushing you away, pretend that you being here with me and Ben scares me more than you being gone. But the truth is, Ben and I, we're lost without you, Dean."

Dean's shock registered on his features but he began to protest, "Lisa you don't need me."

"Maybe not, but we _want_ you. Ben and me. And I'm not making you choose, us or Sam, I know how wrong I was to ever make you do that."

"Hunting…"

"Is who you are, makes you the man I love, that Ben admires so much. But I'm not talking about the violence of it, I'm talking about the people you save. You saved Ben. Ben thinks I forgot that…" she broke off, a part of her a little shamed that she eavesdropped on her own son's conversation with Sam for a moment or twenty. "But I haven't. I won't ever forget that. But you didn't just save him, you saved me…"

"From your boring Ex?" Dean joked, wanting to lighten the mood, to not allow Lisa to tread into harmful waters.

"No, idiot," Lisa chuckled, but then her mirth turned serious, tender, and she reached out, gently stroked his cheek. "You saved me from settling for some guy who might _really_ love Ben, but not me. You proved that I could have it all: the love of my life and the father Ben always wanted. And I've decided, I'm not ready to give up on that, Dean. So, come hellhounds or highwater, far as I'm concerned, you, me, Ben and Sam, we're family," she boldly declared, just dared Dean to try and deny her what she had her heart set on having.

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The End….(OK so I do have some fluffy epilogue stuff in mind)

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You guys were AWESOME! Thanks for showing this story such love.

Have a great day!

Cheryl w.


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